


The Grayman

by Oderas



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Character Study, Fluff, Gen, The Raven Boys - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-05
Updated: 2018-05-05
Packaged: 2019-05-02 14:34:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14546814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oderas/pseuds/Oderas
Summary: A brief character study on The Grayman and Blue, as well as a glimpse into their handling of the events from the end of Blue Lily Lily blue about Maura





	The Grayman

**Author's Note:**

> Love me some The Grayman, love his interactions with blue more. 
> 
> This is purely self indulgent but a warm welcome to anyone willing to entertain this

Being a hit man had not been The Gray Man's number one career choice, being a retired hit man with partially regrown feelings and a missing psychic girlfriend, was also not expected. The Gray Man leaned back in his car seat, tapping his fingers on the stirring wheel of his white Mitsubishi, which was too bright and too obvious and too stolen, with the number plate 'Thief'. As if that wasn't bad enough. He sighed.

The Gray Man would have the plate removed but that drew a lot of questions he didn’t want to deal with. Mainly: “Mid-life crisis?” followed by “Do you have registration?” followed by “Why are you aiming a gun at my head?” He leaned forward and opened the passenger door when he noticed Blue approaching, dressed in a ripped tank top and lace legging that looked like they were made from a curtain. He strongly suspected they were. She climbed inside and smiled, the multi coloured clips in her hair glinting.

The Gray Man tapped his finger nails on the steering wheel, watching Blue out of the corner of his eye. "Curtains? Are thrift stores not good enough?"

She shrugged a shoulder as she put on her seat belt, "Not thrifty enough."

The Gray Man's mouth quirked, he’d missed this brand of humour; supervised by 300 Foxway, grown in herbaceous conditions, distributed by Sargents. “I see you haven’t been using your switchblade correctly.”

“Ha!” Blue breathed, “Guess it was meant for switching prices, silly me.” 

“Its a common linguistic error.” The Gray Man met her eyes and they both shared a smile equal parts, amused, thankful for their similar taste in humour and longing for a brand of Sargent that was temporarily discontinued.  

“I miss her,” Blue said quietly, “but I’m also mad at her.” 

The Gray Man said nothing. He’d only regrown his heart enough to feel basic emotions like empathy and affection, he was missing the part about comforting teenage girls who’d lost their mothers to caves located in mystical forests.

“Read me some poetry,” she said. 

Blue took in a deep breath then exhaled, slowly, expelling all her doubt into the air of the Mitsubishi. The Gray Man appreciated the added negativity, the car was too bright anyway. “I need to go help Calla with a reading, thanks for the talk.” She placed her hand on the door handle.

The Gray Man said, “Go for the thigh and avoid major arteries.”

Blue said, “I’ll try with my public school education.”

Calla said or rather shouted from the porch of the house, “We’re losing precious dollars while you mope in the hit man’s car!” 

“I’m retired,” The Gray Man corrected.  

“I need a drink,” Calla said, “read me a poem and I’ll get you one too.” 

The Gray Man got out of the car and followed Blue up the steps and into the lovable chaos that was 300 Fox way. He really needed that drink.


End file.
